Tag Archives: enlightenment

Blurred lines

It's been one of those days. One of those days where you don't know exactly when the train derailed but where suddenly you find yourself one with a brick wall. Tired. Drained. Angry at everything and nothing at all….and just sad. It's a day where my physical resources are just tapped and my mental resources never really existed in the first place.

I yelled at my son today…more like raised my voice…but yelling for me.

I sighed more often than I breathed.

I smiled through a clenched jaw.

It's not one thing…I actually didn't have a bad day. It's just the accumulation of sick days upon sick days. It's a sick kid who's stir crazy. It's Valentine's day suddenly upon me before I'm ready for it and the mad scramble to make sure I can show my husband that he's important. It's being in the grocery store surrounded by a sea of pink and red…flowers and balloons… and suddenly realizing that I will never be able to buy my mother a rose again. That deep punch in my soul that came out of nowhere. It's my heart breaking. My motivation wavering. My self criticism peaking. It's…

time to fucking take a breath.

I'm alive. My son and husband are alive. Happy and alive. I'm sitting here at a coffee shop after a mad rush to get out…escape for just a minute and breathe. I'm here reminding myself that while it's ok to panic…ok to break…that I'm extraordinarily lucky. That my life is easy. My art still comes at my will. My love is overflowing. That I don't have to scrounge for my next meal. That I was able to choose to have the craziness that is my life. I am so very fortunate. Tomorrow, I have love to share with others who love me just as much back. I am soooo lucky.

I just needed a moment off the merry go round to remember that.

A moment to sift through my blogs to see a photo of a family that are hugging their child for the very last time here. To have my soul punched again back into proper perspective. I'm breathing again and I'm now sending my love mentally to another family who needs it much more than mine now. Damn…

 

Advertisements

Who am I?

Who am I?

It's a question I've asked and answered a lot over the years.

In silly magazine quizzes sent by well-meaning friends

In long, angst-ridden diary pages riddled with self doubt.

But it's a moot question because I am ever a work in progress, a moldable ethereal being that sometimes folds in on itself in guarded innocence and sometimes expands outward towards change and enlightenment.

I am sometimes nothing and more often times everything.

And that's because I have, from birth, defied labels.

I was supposed to be a boy. I wasn't…but some part of my dad never realized that.

I was supposed to be a quiet, subservient little girl because I was such a good girl. I wasn't. I followed the rules until they chained my spirit and then I fought like a caged lion.

I was supposed to be an awkward mouse because I was a “nerd”. But I wasn't. I wore clothes that broke the molds, make up that looked exactly like the models, and danced like rhythm had me, and not the other way around.

I was and always have been daring, well-spoken, fierce, loving, loyal, hard working, artistic, logic minded, soft-skinned, compassionate, strong, and prone to thumbing my nose at convention. I have always said that life is an illusion…social conventions made to be changed. You make the rules because there are no rules.

And I do this even when I am actively trying not to. And man, have I tried to change…long ago when I hated all that I was. I don't anymore.

Because that is me. Red hair. Sparkling, curiosity-filled eyes. Passion dripping from every single word…every single thoughtful gesture. A deliberate life. A beautiful life.

My son is just like me. Full of laughter, angst, humor, brilliance. He is all lights and darks and all the subtleties in between. He defies definition. My love for him defies words.

And it is through that love that I learned the truth. Because it was in that struggle in which, at first, I found myself trying to define him…that I ultimately looked in the mirror and let go of my own boxes. Saw myself as the truly wonderful whirlwind that I am. Cause I can't love him while continuing to hate his reflection. My face that stares back through his gorgeous, sparkling eyes.

God, he's beautiful. And so am I.

So someday, when he's busy shirking off the labels that less dynamic people will stick on him. When he's wondering if he's ok…I will tell him that I used to stop the car at lights, turn the music up and dance with wild abandon outside my car in front of everyone. That I have painted masterpieces. That I've written a novel. That I've traveled 1000 miles to help a friend steal back his cat. And all of these are just a fragment of a very crazy, mixed up, brilliant spirit that is his mother. The spirit I gave to him.

And then I will dare him to push it even further. Because he can. Because he will.

Because that's who I am.

Letting Go

I am frenetic.

A bundle of energy that never sleeps…never really rests.

Even in pain…even in sickness, I am constantly seeking, thinking, problem solving. It is both a gift and a curse. I often get to see the world in a unique way, layered in physics, microbiology, cosmology, sculpture, paint, music, philosophy, and words. And yet it never rests, never ends. I problem solve in my sleep. I break down from the sheer intensity, weight of it all. But fuck, I love it.

And lately, after all this new self acceptance….I seem to have shifted into an entirely new gear. I feel like I'm kind of almost manic. But it's a controlled mania. It's awesome. But exhausting.

My mother's death almost seems like a catalyst to it all. And I feel so guilty for being happy about it.

She used to say that I was exhausting. That my brain…my frenetic thoughts were too much.

That she wished that I wasn't this way. That it hurt her that I was so different. Not able to fit in.

She I was too intense, too emotional….too everything. Couldn't I just tone it down a bit?

and so without my choosing it…I think I did. Your mother's opinion can do that.

But now she's gone.

And I'm changed. I've let go and actually am curious to see what a truly unfettered me will do.

and I'm scared as well. I don't know me without chains.

Have you seen “Frozen?

There is a song that resonates with me…it describes perfectly the feeling that has pervaded the last few weeks of my life. It is the song that makes my heart leap with optimism. I'm free…now let's see what I can do!

 

Well said, Disney…well said.